


Double or Nothing

by princehadri



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Biting, Bloodplay, Bulge Worship, Bulges and Nooks, Double Penetration, Frotting, Incest, M/M, Masturbation, Nooks, Oral Sex, Tentabulges, Threesome, Threesome - M/M/M, Throat Fucking, Vaginal Fingering, Voyeurism, handjobs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-24
Updated: 2013-10-24
Packaged: 2017-12-30 07:37:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,671
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1015896
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/princehadri/pseuds/princehadri
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Following Kurloz was a terrible idea and you knew it. You're just unable to help it...like always. Something about him is a little too intoxicating.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Double or Nothing

**Author's Note:**

  * For [madcarnival](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=madcarnival).



> Gift for [Silias](http://madcarnival.tumblr.com/)

You had only meant to look for Meenah - and find her, you did. But like always she had evaded your grasp, leaving you to watch Kurloz and Meulin “talk”. Not that you can understand a single word of their handsy gibberish. 

You’re about to head back to where you left Mituna (not that you  _want_ to waste any of your time around him) when Kurloz turns on his heel and starts walking. He’s moving with purpose and when that guy has a mission, it can only be one thing:

_Suspicious_. 

And it’s part of your responsibility to keep an eye on him and figure out what he’s up to, because…

Oh to hell with excuses. You’re just nosy.

After a few moments delay you begin to sneak after him, hopefully keeping out of his sight. He’s never done anything to you, but just the eerie sight of his half mutilated face fills you with dread and sends shivers down your spine. What a waste of perfectly good lips.

He interrupts your thoughts as he opens up a separate memory - something you haven’t seen around before.

You’re not so sure you want to follow him.

Whatever the Makara has been hiding from all of you can’t be anything good. Meenah couldn’t possibly be through there. And there’s plenty of other places you could go! People you could harass! Erm. Talk to!

That’s it. You’ve made up your mind. You’ll go find Vantas or something. He’s always known how to explain things. Not concisely, of course…

You start to leave and head back towards where Kankri has to be, but you find your feet leading you in Kurloz’s footsteps. 

Traitors! The both of them!

You approach the purple brick gateway and dread grows in the pit of your stomach, yet…you keep walking. You deserve to know. As a member of  _royalty_ , there ought to be no secrets kept from you. Or so you tell yourself.

It feels more like you’re on autopilot, as the humans say.

The catacomb grows darker with every step, and you can hear something in the distance. An unfamiliar voice speaking lowly enough that you can’t hear what they’re saying. It isn’t Kurloz. You had heard him speak before he stitched his lips shut and while it’s similar, it isn’t  _him_.

You hunker down behind an opened treasure chest and peek out over the lid. 

You’re expecting several things, but what you see isn’t one of them.

Kurloz is there - certainly - but there’s a hand tangled in his unruly hair and forcing him to stoop over. More surprising though, is  _who_ exactly he has his mouth pressed against.

It’s got to be the other Makara. You haven’t seen him around, but the pair of them look far too similar for it to be anything else. Aside from the height and clothing, they might as well be identical. 

"Hold the motherfuck still." The younger one is growling, his hand down the front of Kurloz’s shorts. You’ve always wondered if there’s access under the shorts, or if the entire outfit has to come off. 

You tell yourself that you’re continuing to watch just to find that out. It’s a lie and you know it. 

The other Makara’s hand is moving insistently against Kurloz’s groin and the way his body is undulating is making you blush. You can just barely hear him moaning from behind the thread in his mouth. He sounds just as gorgeous and controlled as you had always imagined.

There’s a rustle of fabric and his shorts are down around his knees. His bulge is coiled against his dancestor’s hand, moving even as the younger strokes his palm over it. 

Your own bulge has unsheathed, pressing against the front of your pants wetly and demanding your attention. You hiss at it under your breath and press your hand down against your crotch. All you meant to do was try and keep it under control, but it’s been so long that it - and the rest of you - is desperate for the attention.

You need it so badly that you’ve already got your hand wrapped around your bulge and even just that amount of contact is enough to make you bite your lip. As good as it feels, it isn’t  _enough_. So maybe that’s why you’re staring at the Makaras still, watching the way they’re moving against each other. The younger one has since dropped his pants and his hands are on Kurloz’s shoulders while their bulges intertwine. 

Fuck.

You wish you could get a better view of that.

You’ve not noticed yourself, but you’ve practically been mewling this whole time - giving off little whimpers that you thought were only in your head. Maybe they were only in your head. Either way, you notice that the two have separated some and the shorter one is staring in your direction.

Shit.

"I motherfucking know you’re there."

Shitshitshitshitshit.

"It’s motherfucking rude to spy and my mirthful messenger isn’t much for peeping toms. So why don’t you drag your greasy ass out here."

The only response you manage to give is to press closer to the chest, praying that the Makara is bluffing. You just have to wait for them to get distracted by each other (and that shouldn’t take long, given how distracting Kurloz has always been to  _you_ ) again and you can sneak out. No more risking your skin for a show. Even if it is the best you’ve ever seen in your life.

"Kurloz straight up  _told_ me where you’re at all watchin’ and getting your rocks off. So motherfucking  _move_ , bitch!”

You stammer weakly for an excuse, your tongue dry and lips refusing to part. The tone of his voice books no argument and you know for a fact now that he isn’t just bluffing.

"Cronus?" He looks over to the mime, who nods, and the both of them turn their attention back to you. "Motherfucker doesn’t get to stare for free." The way his tongue flicks out from between his teeth and licks his lips makes you feel queasy and even more confusingly, turned on. 

"Wh…what?"

Before the word is fully out of your mouth, you’re on your knees. Your bulge is feeling even more constricted by your jeans.

How embarrassing. 

"Shut up and do a little payback."

Kurloz’s gloved hand strokes over your jaw with blissful tenderness and you can feel yourself beginning to flush at the touch before the carefulness turns to malice. His thumb is digging into your skin and forcing your mouth open while his bulge trails over your cheek. 

_BITE ME AND YOU DEAL WITH GAMZEE._

For what can only be a split second, your head is foggy and you can  _feel_ his voice booming in your mind rather than hear it. It’s so brief that you would think you were only imagining it if it weren’t for the dead serious expression on his face.

"And don’t even think about leaving a brother out."

Gamzee’s foot presses against your crotch and it leaves you reeling, your bulge helplessly searching for friction against it. You want to stand up; put him in his place and send him back to whatever juggalo infested pit he crawled out of. But even just the scars that litter his body and face are enough to tell you better than to mess with him.

His bulge shoving its way into your mouth saves you the trouble of having to come up with a witty retort. You try not to give him the satisfaction of seeing you gag, but when Kurloz wriggles his in beside the younger’s, you’re more focused on trying not to whimper. 

You want to be angry.

You don’t want to be dripping wet and horny and half out of your mind because of it. But you are.

The two of them easily slip into a rhythm, one of them pushing in while the other pulls almost entirely out. They’re slick and wet against your tongue, threatening to fuck your throat.

You think at this point you  _want_ them to.

You chance a look up.

You half thought that the two Land Royals would be staring you down, smiling and sneering at their capture, but instead you find Gamzee with his hand tangled in the mess of a mane that Kurloz calls his hair. Their lips are pressed together and every so often, you can catch a glimpse of Gamzee’s tongue sliding over the threaded bars that covered his dancestor’s lips.

And lord, what you imagine that tongue can do.

Gamzee’s hip movements stop and his bulge slowly withdraws from your mouth, taking care to smear his length against your lips. There’s some sort of unspoken conversation going on between the two of them because almost immediately he’s on his knees beside you. 

You don’t have to wonder about what his tongue can do any longer, because the second he’s on the ground he’s trailing kisses over Kurloz’s bulge. If you weren’t  **you** , you might be a little perturbed by the enthusiasm with which he’s servicing his elder.

You’re half mesmerized by the younger’s work, not having realized that you had stopped until Kurloz’s insistent hand finds its way into your slick, black hair. You lift one of your hands, gripping the elder Makara’s hip and pulling yourself a bit closer as you take one side of his bulge. You do your best to mimic Gamzee’s actions, clinging to Kurloz as your tongue, his bulge and the loud Makara’s tongue practically intertwine.

If you didn’t know any better, you’d have thought that Gamzee was making moves on  _you_ in the meantime.

You glance over to him every so often, only to find him engaged in his work. So why do you have the feeling in the pit of your stomach - or is it the back of your head? - that there’s something more to his movements. 

His lips curl in a half snarl and you guess it’s because you’ve zoned out watching and are half neglecting your own work, but he doesn’t say anything. He only shoves you out of the way and goes back about his business. You think he’s done with you and begin to move away.

The sharp pain against your head tells you otherwise.

Both Makaras are staring you down, each of them with a hand caught in your hair.

"N-no go on that, then? Nyeh…" You force yourself to try and smile, but the attempt is wiped right off your face when Gamzee forces you onto all fours and drags you close, your face nearly pressed right against his bulge.

You can tell your cheeks and ear fins have gone a deep purple. It's  _embarrassing_. For all your flirtation and big talk, it isn't like you're as experienced as you like to claim.

His bulge coils demandingly against your closed lips while you're on all fours in front of him and you obey. The second you give in, he's back down your throat with a hand against the back of your head. He isn't making you gag anymore. You hope it's because you're a quick learner who has already gotten the hang of things, but you know it's much more likely that he's going easy on you.

Kurloz moves above you, shifting enough so that he's got a foot on either side of you. You can't figure out  _why_  until you twist enough to glance at Gamzee's face.

And then you see it.

The older Makaras hips are pressed flush against the little psychopath's mouth and he's got him by the horns while he's literally fucking his face.

You would feel bad for him - sympathetic - if you hadn't seen the look of badly hidden worship on his face.

You catch a glimpse of his tongue (it's so damn  _long_  that it's impossible not to feel a little bit outraged about Kurloz chewing off that work of art) for a brief second before Gamzee tries to push it into the other's nook. He doesn't get away with it for even a moment before he's given a firm shake, forcing you to adjust to move your mouth back around his length.

Maybe you are getting this hang of this. Your resistance has become eagerness as you all but happily suck and lap at Gamzee's bulge. Your tongue and the tendril dance, curling around each other as you take him more into your mouth. He's not in your throat, but you want him there. You can't believe that you're finding yourself envious of the rough nature with which Kurloz is treating his dancestor. That could be  _you_.

You whimper some, bobbing quicker as if to edge the younger Makara quicker, harder. But he doesn't budge. He moves at a sickeningly slow pace and it just makes you angry. As you grip his hips, he growls at you, pulling away from his elder dancestor and glares down at you.

Fuck.

He moves faster than you expected he could and there's a sudden weight on your back. You think it's only his foot until you hear him honk a laugh directly into your ear.

His chest is against your back, his body not heavy enough for his height but enough to keep you still. 

At least until you feel his bulge rubbing against your ass.

You want - and try! - to protest, but all that comes out of your mouth is a half choked moan as you feel him push into you. He's longer than you are and about as thick; you could tell that from the second he had your face forced up against his bulge, but now you can  _feel_ it.

"You eyein' my motherfuckin' bro? You think he does it better?" 

Your head shakes, but you can't hide the pleas in your head for the skull-faced Makara to make you his mother fuckin' fish bitch.

You curse at yourself for your horrible thought and come to the conclusion that letting the Makaras in to your head - or rather them forcing their way there - is not good for your already lacking IQ...and definitely not good for your vocabulary.

Kurloz laughs silently at you, black lips curled into a knowing smirk. He signs something that makes Gamzee laugh, low and terrifyingly pleased. 

The young Makara moves again, making you want to flinch out of anticipation of what he might do.

You don't have much time to figure out that Gamzee's arms have now wrapped around you and you're falling...sort of. He's pulling you back and Kurloz is pushing you back as well. Your hands move to grab the elder Makara's arm, trying to steady yourself - you don't trust either of them and you most certainly don't need a fall like this one.

Before you know it, the youngest of you three is holding you tightly against his chest and the eldest is looming over you two. You swallow hard as you stare up at him while he descends. He grabs your legs and forces them apart. Gamzee bucks up into you, causing you to remember just where  _he_  is as Kurloz is placing himself between your thighs as well. His bulge moves, the thinner tip sliding over your slick nook.

Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck.

Shit.

You start to squirm. "No no no no no." But that glare from behind skull-like makeup makes you stop cold. At least, until the scream wells up from your throat as he pushes his entire length into your nook.

Normally you wouldn't care so much. You would be  _thankful_ for the act. But Gamzee's bulge coiling and moving within you has got you stretched and sensitive already and Kurloz is just too  _much_.

Too sharp teeth clamp down on your shoulder and immediately your royal blood is welling to the surface to trickle down your arm and stain Gamzee's lips. You can hear yourself screaming and your throat hurts almost as badly as your shoulder does. It doesn't help that you're bucking and jerking in his lap and his teeth are tearing through your flesh like so much parchment. 

Gloved fingers brush against your steadily purpling flesh, smearing the blood on your arm into a lopsided smile.

You sneer at the smile, but to move to wipe it away only makes Gamzee grab on to you harder.

"Ah ah ah, motherfucker. You don't get to be rid of that little marking just yet."

You whine as they both thrust in deeply. You feel like you're going to be split in two, but  _god_  does it feel good.

It doesn't take long before the two of them start moving independently of one another again, filling you one at a time and giving you some sort of reprieve from both bulges in you at once. But it also makes it so that you're never  _empty_. One of them is always inside you.

"Not enough wicked praise comin' outta that motherfuckin' sweet mouth of yours." Gamzee's hand is sneaking down your abdomen and towards your groin. You're half hopeful that he's going to give you some relief and your bulge is more than eager for it. It's all that you're focused on, hips lifting and bucking needily. 

His fingers never touch your seeking length. Two of them push deep inside your nook, your body allowing and  _encouraging_ it. When you risk a glance downwards, you can see his fingers dripping with a combination of your and Kurloz's fluids and your noise of embarrassment is strangled in your throat.

Gamzee laughs against your finned ear and snakes his tongue out to curl against the sensitive webbing. The only sound that comes out of your throat is a low moan. You'd always dreamt of something like this happening to you - you just always thought it would be someone different. Someone - some _ones_  - a bit more  _sane_.

You can feel the fabric of Kurloz's glove against your bulge, strange and leather smooth. There's shivers running down your spine as he trails the tip of his finger along the length of your bulge.

"Ask him nice and maybe you'll get a little motherfuckin' lucky."

Your gaze directs towards Kurloz's half smile, lingering on his lips before you make eye contact with him and gasp out a plea in utter obedience.

Whatever the two Makaras are willing to grant you...you want it.

Kurloz obliges, his covered fingers curling around your bulge and squeezing it gently. You didn't ever think he could have such a gentle touch...and it pisses you off. You can't help the growl that comes from your throat as you push up more into his hand.

As you move, so do their lengths within you. It only serves to make you moan more, your head falling back as you reach out to curl your fingers in  _whatever_ you can grab. They happen to tangle in to Kurloz's hair, the only thing holding you down being Gamzee's arms around your middle. Fingernails are pressed hard enough against you that you can feel the sting of their bite through your shirt. There's going to be some nice bruises and cuts on your skin come morning.

Gamzee's teeth sink into the back of your neck and he's practically biting down on your very spine, summoning a yowl from your lips. But beyond the searing pain, there's  _pleasure_. Your tip is leaking with need and your hips are pushing against both the Makara's with far too much desperation for the persona you try to cultivate.

You can hear a laugh, but as to who it's coming from, you don't know. You don't care. Your hand reaches down to try to rub your squirming length, looking for that bit of friction while lewd noises spill from your lips. There's no stopping them, and you don't want to stop them. You want these sick fucks to know how much they're effecting you. You want them to know so that they'll continue.

And continue they do.

Your noises only seem to fuel them as they thrust harder and faster in to you. Your ass and nook feel raw, but god does it feel amazing.

With the pounding, your head goes fuzzy. You can hear screaming and it confuses you. They're not screaming and there's no one else here. Is that you? Are  _you_  screaming? It must be - and that makes you scream even louder. Your hips buck and thrust until the purple fluid spills from your tip, covering your bulge, your stomach and just about everything else near it.

One of them laughs at your spectacle, but you can't tell if it's your ears or your mind hearing it.

The younger finishes first. The noise of pleasure that he breathes against your ear is more than half feral. You can feel the heat of his own genetic material fill you and it makes you squirm in silent objection. It's goddamn disgusting is what it is.

But even as you think that, Kurloz gives a dark chuckle in the back of your head.

You  _want_ him to. You want to feel it dripping out of you. And he knows it. 

Kurloz laughs again - verbally this time. Hoarse and rough and barely escaping his sewn lips. 

"You feelin' like you owed somethin', bitch?" Gamzee's eyes flash purple for a split second and you can feel his poison tongue against your neck. There's no doubt in your hormone soaked mind that the two of them are communicating behind your back - while right in front of you.

The elder's bulge slowly pulls out of you, leaving your nook achingly empty. It'd be too much to ask for, you guess. But don't you  _deserve_ whatever you want at this point?

Kurloz's hand moves over his bulge and you watch it coil and wind between his gloved fingers. You wonder for a second if he's going to finish himself off, but even as the words cross your mind, he fixes his clothing and exchanges a look with Gamzee before silently walking off.

"He's had better."


End file.
